


Kairos

by glass_icarus



Category: Ysabel - Kay
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-08
Updated: 2009-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-09 08:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glass_icarus/pseuds/glass_icarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><span class="small">*Definition according to Wikipedia is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kairos">here</a>.</span></p><p>A birthday fic for Ave, who asked for something Ed/Meghan. &hearts Even though I started a little bit before that, heh.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Kairos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Avendya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avendya/gifts).



> *Definition according to Wikipedia is [here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kairos).
> 
> A birthday fic for Ave, who asked for something Ed/Meghan. &amp;hearts Even though I started a little bit before that, heh.

There's a brief period in his third year of university when his inspiration runs low, and subsequently- desperately- Ed Marriner finds himself juggling three different jobs in order to cover his rent, in lieu of the pictures that he isn't selling to the local newspapers and magazines. Internships, he discovers, may lie thick on the ground (more or less, depending on one's perspective), but _paid_ ones approach the unicorn in their mythical status.

He tries bartending for the first couple of months, but even though the pay's great and the perks even better- he comes home one night with three unopened bottles of champagne, a mostly-full bottle of vodka, and half a platter of sushi, for which his roommates crown him King of the Month- he tires of the unpredictable hours and the occasional drunken fallout rather quickly. After the fifth unfortunate encounter with an inebriate, Ed prudently withdraws from the field to revise his plans.

He manages to snag a job at the university library, where there's never _quite_ enough willing manpower. Ed enjoys it nearly despite himself: the stacks are peaceful, if dusty, and the cycle of lethargy interspersed with frenetic bursts of hyperactivity keeps him on his toes. He learns to navigate the various borrowing systems, the most efficient ways to search for research materials, and that it _is_, in fact, possible to complete his homework assignments in between his stints at the circulation desk. The wages aren't sufficient to cover his expenses, but the lady in the upstairs apartment asks him to walk her dog twice a week, which helps.

Finals approach, and his roommates' insomniac habits seem to rub off on him; he spends so many hours in the tiny, 24-hour coffee shop (just a few blocks away, and a discovery Ed is disinclined to share with his friends) that he befriends both owners and all four staff members. It's the girl, though, a regular, who really catches his attention: smallish and fine-boned and not conventionally beautiful, but with the kind of dramatic coloring that makes his fingers itch for his camera.

For the first time, he refrains from taking a shot.

A week or two of surreptitious reconnaissance- Ed prefers the term to "stalking"- and he learns that she's a med student. She comes in at odd hours, sometimes in the afternoon, sometimes just before dawn, always carrying books and occasionally wearing scrubs. Their visits don't always coincide, but each time he sees her, he's fascinated by the mobility of her expressive face.

One day, she comes in without her notes, the usual tense lines of her shoulders and neck relaxed for once. Ed's fiddling half-heartedly with his camera, taking pictures that some people would call "experimental," but which he secretly thinks are lazy: the shiny chrome of the coffeemaker, ice cubes melting in an orange-juice glass. He's moved on to Marie's long fingers at the cash register before he notices the flicker of deep, true red at the edge of his lens.

"Sorry," Ed says, lowering his camera ruefully. "I didn't realize you were here."

The girl laughs. "No, that's all right. I don't mind."

Ed grins, sliding into the chair across from hers. "Ed Marriner, arts student," he says. "I'm figuring out my next project."

"Meghan Ford, med student." She cocks an eyebrow at his camera. "You do that for a living?"

"Well, sort of. Someday, I hope. It depends on how good my pictures are."

"Ah." She blinks. "Why were you photographing in here?"

Ed shrugs. "Bored, I guess? I'm a little low on inspiration." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I, ah, may also be at the tail end of my current paycheck, so at this point I'm willing to try anything."

Meghan grimaces in sympathy. "Not so much with the actual paid photo credits, then?"

"Well, I'm not usually taking pictures of _coffee shops_, but even without that- not so much, no."

"I suppose it's difficult to reconcile artistic vision with newsbites, sometimes."

"You have _no idea_."

Meghan smiles absently, her gaze turned momentarily inward. "It must be nice," she says quietly, "to be able to do what you want."

Ed cocks his head, curious, but the faintest thread of bitterness in her voice silences the questions swirling at the tip of his tongue. "Yes," he says instead.

She shakes herself. "Sorry, I got- well. Anyway. Do you want a coffee?"

"I, ah-" Ed pauses, thinking of all the things he _should_ be doing, like developing his film for next month's photography contest, like sending out another portfolio to the newspapers, like _heading to the library in time for his next shift_. Meghan looks at him, an enigmatic half-smile on her face, and his hands twitch involuntarily. "Yeah, sure, but on one condition."

The picture he submits to the contest wins first prize: a girl's reflection in the window of the coffee shop, her red hair blurring into the first rosy tinge of sunset.


End file.
